


A curved line is a warm thing

by whalebone



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Bonding, Caretaking, Developing Relationship, Everybody Lives, F/F, Hopeful Ending, Oral Sex, Trust Issues, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24943135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whalebone/pseuds/whalebone
Summary: Jyn had been alone for months. Three times, now, Ahsoka had found her when she needed help. That was a better track record than anyone, in as long as Jyn could remember.
Relationships: Jyn Erso/Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 19
Kudos: 51
Collections: Little Black Dress Exchange 2020





	A curved line is a warm thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleRaven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRaven/gifts).



The spaceport was busy. Jyn kept her head down and tried not to walk too fast, or draw attention to herself. She hitched the satchel over her shoulder. If any of the stormtroopers stalking about the place wanted to search her, she didn’t know what she’d say. They’d know by now that someone had arrived with forged codes.

If it was true, what Saw had said, that some people out there suspected who she was…

 _Fuck Saw_ , Jyn told herself furiously. Fuck him, fuck him, _fuck him_. He’d left her on Tamsye Prime without a second thought. She didn't need him.

She swallowed the hot, angry tears and gritted her teeth. She had to find a way off this damn port, but how? She couldn’t afford to give away the scant credits she’d got from the scrappers for the ship. Her scandocs were forged, and possibly compromised. The only thing of any value was her mother’s necklace, and she’d rather space herself than give that up.

Perhaps she could do someone a favour, in return for a trip to wherever they were headed. She could be pretty handy, after all. Or at least make a convincing show of it. She settled against a stretch of wall, pretending to watch one of the Empire’s propaganda messages projecting overhead _(Security in Strength!)_ , and observed. She immediately dismissed anyone who was obviously Imperial. No sense in making this harder than it needed to be. A group of rowdy traders passed, laughing together. That was a possibility, though she’d have to waste time getting them to take her seriously. A freighter would be her best bet, really, so maybe—

“Hey, you.” 

Jyn tensed, then forced her shoulders down. “Yeah?” She turned to the stormtrooper who had addressed her, aiming for some combination of bored and irritated. “What?”

“Scandocs.” He held out a hand.

Jyn rolled her eyes, even as her heart began to race. She made a show of digging impatiently in her satchel. If only she’d thought to forge new ones. Eventually she couldn’t stall any further, and pulled out the Kestrel Dawn scandocs. They were compromised, she knew, and she could only hope that the danger hadn’t made it here yet. She rested her palm lightly against the baton at her waist, ready to run as the stormtrooper scanned the documents.

“Alright miss, you’re gonna need to come with me,” he said, and he moved to seize Jyn’s arm.

Before Jyn could whip out her truncheon, another hand found her wrist, wrapping it in a firm, steady grip.

“There you are!” said a new voice. “Honestly, Barriss, I’ve been looking _all over_ for you.”

Jyn blinked, looking at the stranger. She was a Togruta woman, older than Jyn, with a scarf wrapped around her head obscuring her montrals. Her eyes were the brightest blue Jyn had ever seen. The woman squeezed Jyn’s wrist, just on the edge of painful.

“I’ve been here the whole time,” said Jyn, playing along, letting a bite of impatience into her voice. “You’re the one who’s late.”

The woman sighed and shook her head, as though Jyn were some troublesome little sister. “Thank you, officer,” she said to the stormtrooper. “My pilot needs her scandocs back, now.”

“Now see here—”

“My _pilot_ needs her scandocs back,” said the woman, her voice taking on a firm, gleaming edge. “ _Now._ ”

The stormtrooper paused, then held the scandocs out to Jyn, who took them mutely. “Your pilot needs her scandocs back,” he repeated, his voice oddly blank.

“Excellent. Thanks so much.” The woman smiled, showing her teeth, and then towed Jyn away. Jyn’s heart was still racing, and her thoughts with it.

“Hey, hey wait,” she hissed, once they’d left the stormtrooper behind. “What was that? Who the kriff are you?” She wanted to yank her arm back, to yell. _I didn’t need your help, I was fine._ But there were stormtroopers crawling all over this damn place, and the last thing she needed was more attention.

The woman didn’t respond, and just pushed Jyn down a narrow corridor. She was taller than Jyn, and stronger, and Jyn found herself pressed firmly against a wall. The Togruta woman considered her with those astonishing blue eyes, her expression thoughtful.

“The question,” she said, “is who are you?”

Jyn jerked her chin, undaunted. “Kestrel Dawn.”

A small smile touched the woman’s lips. “Perhaps.” 

Her hand, which had been curled around Jyn’s upper arm, moved to her neck. For a moment Jyn thought she meant to strangle her, but her cool fingertips moved down her throat to the chain of her necklace. She tugged it, pulling the kyber pendant out from beneath Jyn’s jacket.

“Don’t,” snapped Jyn. She caught the woman’s wrist and twisted slightly, just enough to let her know she knew how to break it. The woman considered her, those blue eyes seeming to lay her open. 

“May the Force of others be with you,” she said simply, resting her fingers lightly against the pendant.

Jyn stared at her. Then, just as suddenly as she’d arrived, the woman was gone, leaving Jyn with nothing but her forged scandocs and her heart pounding in her ears.

* * *

The cuffs bit hard into Jyn’s wrists. Her shoulder was throbbing from where the stormtrooper had pinned her down. Judging by the tenderness at her cheek and jaw, a colourful bruise was already forming on her face. She tried to ignore her various pains and focus on her surroundings. On what she could use. There was always _something_ , she knew. These cuffs were pretty cheap, didn’t even have an electrical component, so she should be able to pick them. Getting hold of the pin she’d stashed in her sleeve was trickier with her hands behind her back, but she could be patient where necessary. If she could get her hands free, she could easily figure out a way off this damn train.

Opposite her, a Rodian was sniffling. He’d been hurt pretty badly in the escape, and the stormtroopers had cuffed him just the same. Jyn tried not to care. At least most people had got away.

Suddenly the train car lurched, seeming to buck and leap on the tracks, and a huge, dull _boom_ sounded from the engine up ahead. Some of the prisoners jumped and yelped. Others looked interested, or wary. Jyn held herself tense, listening, still working the pin in the cuffs.

“Hey!”

“Did we hit something?”

“What the kriff is happening?”

Another lurch jolted Jyn almost out of her seat, her teeth snapping together. She tasted blood, sharp and metallic. She was only saved by the cuffs locking her to the bar behind her. The pain in her shoulder blazed, sending dark spots dancing in front of her eyes. 

Then the door to the next compartment slammed open, revealing two figures: one huge and hulking, the other smaller and more slender. Behind them was nothing but open air and the beginning of a sunrise; the rest of the train was gone. The bitter wind howled.

Jyn’s first thought was, ‘Kriffing hell, _now what_?’ 

Her second thought was, ‘Stars, her eyes are so damn _blue_.’

It had been four years since Saw had left. Four years since she had escaped Tamsye Prime. Jyn was no longer a teenager, no longer needed someone to look to. But sometimes, lying in the dark, she would curl her hand around her kyber crystal and whisper, _May the Force of others be with you._

“Alright, everyone!” the Togruta woman called in a clear, commanding voice. “We’ve taken over this train, and it’s time for everyone to get off. Once I’ve dealt with your cuffs,” she jangled a bundle of keys from one slim hand, “my friend here will help you get to safety.”

Her friend, a huge Trandoshan, gave a slightly mocking salute.

The Togruta woman began to move down the line, unlocking the cuffs. Jyn kept her head down and kept working at her own cuffs with the pin. Each prisoner stumbled to their feet, swaying with the movement of the train carriage, and staggered to the door. As they climbed out of the door, the Trandoshan lowered them out of sight. They must have some kind of ship below. 

When the woman reached Jyn, the pin clicked in the lock. 

“I got it,” she said crisply, lifting up her hands, ignoring the way her shoulder screamed. The woman raised an eyebrow, a smile on her full lips. 

“I’m glad someone’s resourceful,” she murmured, and helped Jyn to her feet, her hand cool and firm in Jyn’s. For a brief moment they stared at one another, and Jyn wondered if she remembered her. Probably not, since she seemed to make a habit of swooping in to save people from the Empire. 

Jyn tore her hand away and turned to the Trandoshan, sticking the pin inside her jacket sleeve again. It didn’t bloody matter if the woman remembered her from four damn years ago. If she wanted to be a hero, Jyn wasn’t going to stop her.

“Alright, missy,” the Trandoshan grinned at her, teeth bared. “Gotta jump a bit. Think you can manage?”

Below, a small ship was keeping pace with the train. Jyn could jump, land on its roof, and then climb down through the one open hatch she could see. If she missed… well. She’d have a long, long fall to think about how idiotic that would be.

She jerked her chin up, jaw set, and glared at the Trandoshan. “Yeah,” she said. “I can manage.”

She curled her fingers around her kyber crystal for a moment, took a deep breath, and jumped.

* * *

The spaceport was busy, dark, and squalid. It was, to Jyn’s mind, perfect. She’d managed to keep her head down during the rest of the escape, mostly feigning sleep, and now she could slip away into the night-time underbelly of this new planet. It should be easy enough to get some credits, some bacta, some new scandocs, and then she could be well away from here in the space of a single standard.

It was easy. There had been a jacket casually slung over a storage crate in the ship’s hold, and Jyn had grabbed that as she’d left. Her shoulder hurt too much to put it on properly, but she’d wrapped it around herself and flipped the hood over her hair. It was too big, the hood falling almost to her nose, but that was just fine. As the Rodian thanked their rescuers, clasping his hands together, Jyn dropped lightly off the side of the ship’s ramp and walked briskly away from the docks. 

There were always bars not far from spaceports, and at one like this it was bound to be crowded and dimly lit. Sure enough, Jyn found one within a few moments. She pushed her way inside, ducking through the crowd. One drunk tried to grab at her, leering, and then staggered when she jabbed him hard in the kidneys. Even that small movement made her shoulder scream, and she gritted her teeth against the flare of pain. 

She reached the back door of the bar and forced it open, stumbling out into a dark alleyway. Perfect. 

The alleyway led to more alleyways, and finally to a more brightly-lit area. The glaring, flickering lights just made the place look more filthy and rundown, however, and Jyn wished she had her truncheon. Or better yet, a blaster. She kept the hood drawn up and walked as though she knew where she was going, letting herself blend in. She knew how to be invisible; Saw had taught her, mostly, but she’d always known it. All those years of running and hiding, after they’d left Coruscant. Some part of her was always hiding in the dark, trying to be as unseen as possible.

 _Don’t think about it_ , she told herself furiously. She was good, these days, at not dwelling on things, at not letting herself imagine what it would be like, to suddenly find Saw again. To walk down an Imperial street and see her father walking towards her. She couldn’t afford to waste her time on pointless, idiotic wishes. That was how you go yourself beaten down and killed. 

Her shoulder was throbbing; she’d probably torn a muscle. She should be able to score some bacta here, though they’d charge her a kriff-ton for it, no doubt. She had to get some credits.

The next bar she spotted was nicer than the first one. Better lit, no broken windows. It had been a while since Jyn had relied on picking pockets to get by, but she could do it again in a pinch. And maybe get a damn drink, to take the edge off the pain.

It didn’t take her long. She casually bumped into a tall man who was weaving his way back from the bathroom, apologising quickly, making herself look meek and small. He barely seemed to notice her, grunting once before making his way back to his rowdy group of friends. Jyn quietly slipped the small bag of credits into her pocket.

She perched in a darkened corner of the bar and ordered a cheap Corellian whiskey, swallowing it down in one gulp. It burned her throat and warmed her stomach, and the pain in her shoulder seemed to ease. She ordered another from the surly Ithorian bartender and sipped that one silently, casting her eyes about the place. 

When someone sat down next to her, she pretended to ignore them, staring down at her empty glass. Then a familiar voice said, “What are you drinking?”

Jyn jerked her head up. The Togruta woman, her lekku once again hidden beneath a headscarf, was watching her, her expression careful. 

“Are you following me?”

“Of course not. What are you drinking?”

Jyn glared. “Whiskey. Tevraki.” 

The Togruta smiled. “I doubt that,” she said, but ordered two glasses just the same. It was expensive and beautifully smooth, leaving a rich, smoky taste on Jyn’s tongue. “So. Kestrel, isn’t it?”

Kriff, she _remembered_? Kestrel Dawn had been years ago. Jyn had been Tanith Pontha for a while, but she’d need to burn that identity now that the Empire had wind of it. This time tomorrow, she’d be someone else entirely. “Sure. And who are _you_?”

The woman sipped her drink, seeming to think about it. “Ahsoka,” she said. Jyn thought she might be telling the truth. That was more foolish than she’d have expected.

“And you’re here - why? Expecting me to thank you?”

“Well, I did rescue you today.”

Jyn shrugged, and regretted it when pain shot through her shoulder. “I was working on it. I didn’t ask for you to play the hero.”

Ahsoka considered this, and then tilted her glass towards Jyn in acknowledgement. “That’s true.”

“Where’s your friend?” The Trandoshan was conspicuously absent. A good thing really; Jyn might be able to get away from Ahsoka if necessary, but she’d have no chance if a Trandoshan was about.

“More of an acquaintance,” said Ahsoka. “We had… similar aims, for a while, so we worked together. Temporarily.”

“You usually work alone.”

Something flashed in Ahsoka’s blue eyes, and her mouth tightened very slightly. “Yes,” she said, and there was a steely, sad note in her voice. “Usually. And so do you.”

Jyn didn’t answer that, knowing that it was obvious. She swallowed the rest of the whiskey, savouring its brief moment of warmth, and pushed her stool back from the bar. “Right, well. Thanks for the drink.”

“Wait.” Ahsoka touched her arm. Jyn resisted the urge to snatch it back, holding herself still. “You’re hurt. I can help.”

“I’m fine. I told you, I don’t need your damn heroics.” She fucking owed this woman twice now. She wasn’t about to make it three times. No way. That was a complication Jyn did not need.

“It’s not heroics. I have bacta, and you need it.”

“Yeah? And what do you want in return?”

Ahsoka’s face hardened. “You helped destroy that weapons facility on Coyerti.”

“So?” Fat lot of good that had done her. She wouldn’t even get the payment for it, now.

Ahsoka glanced around. The bar was busy and noisy, and no one was paying them any mind. She stood up and stepped a little closer; she was taller than Jyn, and had to bend her head a little to speak quietly to her. “Destroying that facility did more than you know. Trust me: I owe you more than you can owe me.”

“I don’t need anyone to owe me anything.”

“No. But you can’t go on with your shoulder damaged like that, and you’ll never get decent bacta in this place.”

Jyn glared at her. Kriff, she was exhausted, she was in pain. She’d be an idiot to turn down free treatment. 

“Fine,” she said. “Where? Your ship?”

“No. I know a boarding house near here. We’ll go there.” Ahsoka clearly saw the deepened scowl on Jyn’s face. “Lots of exits. I promise. If you don’t trust it when we get there, you can just go. Obviously.”

Right. Obviously.

* * *

The room was small and shabby, but clean. It was on the first floor, with a window that opened inwards. Ahsoka didn’t say anything when Jyn crossed to look out; there was a drainpipe in grabbing distance, and at least four different escape routes. The buildings were close together, so getting from roof to roof shouldn’t be a problem. Jyn breathed a little easier.

“Okay?” Ahsoka asked. Jyn didn’t answer, but turned from the window and painfully shrugged the stolen jacket from her shoulders.

Ahsoka sat on the edge of the bed and rummaged in the small bag she’d had slung across her back. She had removed her coat and headscarf; her short blue-and-white montrals and lekku were a lovely contrast to her skin, which was a bright, sunset colour in the room’s warm light. Her arms were long and slender, though Jyn could tell that there was speed and strength in her. Slowly, warily, Jyn approached the bed.

“Sit down,” said Ahsoka absently, pulling out a pack of bacta patches and a spray. “Let me look at your shoulder.”

Jyn wanted to protest that she could do it her damn self, but she knew she couldn’t. She clenched her jaw and sat down on the very edge of the bed, ready to leap up at any moment. Ahsoka put her hand on her good shoulder.

“Let me know where this hurts, okay?” she said, and moved her fingers gently but firmly over Jyn’s back to the other side. When she pressed at the trapezius muscle, Jyn gave an involuntary bark of pain, dark spots dancing in front of her vision.

“Shit, sorry,” said Ahsoka, sounding genuine. “I think you’ve done some proper damage. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Jyn gritted out, breathing in hard through her nose. The immediate pain had subsided, but she felt hot and sick. “Let’s just - get on with it.”

She unbuttoned her shirt slowly. It had been months since she’d last taken her shirt off in front of an attractive woman and, she thought bitterly, the last time had been a damn sight better. She wondered, vaguely, where that woman was now. Safe, hopefully. 

When Jyn slid the shirt down her arms, she heard a small intake of breath from Ahsoka. She suspected that there was some significant bruising going on.

“Did this happen in the attack?” Ahsoka asked, and her cool fingertips touched the point of Jyn’s shoulderblade.

“No. When they arrested me.”

Ahsoka swore under her breath. “I’m sorry,” she said. 

“It’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

She suspected that wasn’t the answer Ahsoka had wanted, but all she said was, “Okay, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

The bacta spray was a shock of cold when it hit the bare skin of Jyn’s shoulder, but became blessedly cool as Ahsoka smoothed it over the hot, swollen area. She was supremely gentle, her fingers moving over Jyn’s skin like moth wings. Another soft, cool spray, and Ahsoka’s fingers swept down the crease of Jyn’s shoulder blade, back up the edge of her spine. Everywhere she touched brought a beautiful sense of relief. Jyn found herself relaxing, for the first time in weeks.

“Thank you,” she said, realising she hadn’t said it.

“You’re welcome,” murmured Ahsoka. Her voice was very close, and Jyn’s heart jumped a little. “Okay, I’ll put a patch on the worst part, then we’ll take a look at the rest.”

“The rest is fine.”

“Hm.” There was disbelief in Ahsoka’s tone. Her hands left Jyn’s skin, and she felt a stupid little stab of regret. She sat still as Ahsoka sealed a bacta patch over her shoulder, fighting down the urge to lean into the touch. When Ahsoka was done, Jyn turned to face her. She _was_ very close. Jyn swallowed and held out one hand, displaying the red-purple bruises that the cuffs had left on her wrist.

She could have taken the bacta spray and done it herself. Jyn wasn’t entirely sure why she didn’t. Ahsoka cradled the back of Jyn’s hand in her palm and sprayed cool bacta over the raw skin. It stung, at first, and then the pain eased. Jyn let out a breath through her teeth as Ahsoka worked, smoothing the healing gel over Jyn’s battered skin. Her fingers were long and nimble, Jyn couldn’t help but notice, and when she dragged her eyes from Ahsoka’s hands back to her face she found that she was biting her lower lip a little. It made her look younger. 

“Where are you from?” Jyn asked curiously. She vaguely remembered that Togruta were from somewhere out in the Expansion Region, but had no idea if the Empire had a strong foothold there. Had Ahsoka been driven from her home? Was she a refugee? 

Ahsoka seemed to hesitate for a moment, before answering. “Coruscant,” she said eventually.

Jyn blinked. She remembered a little of Coruscant: the colour and noise of it; her father’s long absences, the low-voiced arguments that her parents thought she couldn’t hear, her mother’s face growing more worried with each day. 

“I’ve been there once,” she said. _Give some truth to your lies,_ Saw had said. _Let them hide in plain sight._ “It was so loud.”

A sad smile tugged at Ahsoka’s lips. “Yes,” she agreed. “It can be. But there’s places of peace, as well, if you know where to find them.”

“Do you go back?”

“No.” She shook her head, quick and firm. “No. There’s nothing for me there, now.” She took Jyn’s other hand, and began to repeat the treatment. “And what about you, Kestrel? Where are _you_ from?”

That was a question without an answer, really, even if she had told the truth. Jyn thought of the peaceful fields stretching around the Pontas’ small home. The warmth of the family that had brought her into their fold. She’d let herself believe it, for a little while. “Skuhl. It’s nothing much.”

“Is your family there?”

The familiar, dull ache of guilt bit at her stomach. “No. They’re dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jyn shrugged. Her shoulder was stiff, but there was no jolt of pain this time. “Lots of people’s families are dead, these days. I got out, with a friend. At least, I thought he was a friend.”

_How’s that, Saw? Putting a bit of truth to the lie._

“I’m still sorry.” Ahsoka finished working the bacta into Jyns’s wrist, but she didn’t let go of her hand. Instead she folded it between her own. “I… lost my family as well.” From the careful way she spoke, Jyn suspected that this was as true as her own story. “They taught me so much. And I loved them. But when I needed them…” She gave a sharp shake of her head.

“They left?”

“No. I left. Because when I needed them, more than ever, they weren’t there. Only - only one of them believed in me, and he—” Ahsoka gave herself a little shake. Despite herself, Jyn felt a spark of curiosity. “Anyway. I know what it’s like, to only be able to trust yourself. It’s lonely.”

Jyn snorted in grim amusement. “Yeah. But it’s better than some alternatives.”

“Perhaps. I’m not so sure.” 

Quiet fell between them, broken only by the soft sound of their breath. Jyn realised that she’d leaned forward as they’d talked, swaying closer to Ahsoka. It would be nothing at all to close the distance.

“Who’s Barriss?”

It was obviously not what Ahsoka had expected her to say. She froze briefly, and Jyn saw her jaw tighten. “What?”

“Barriss. That’s what you called me, when you helped with that stormtrooper. Who is she?”

Ahsoka kept her eyes on Jyn’s injury, resuming her careful ministrations. “She was a friend. At least, I thought she was.”

“She betrayed you,” Jyn guessed.

“Yes. She thought she was doing the right thing.”

Jyn swallowed the sudden surge of bitterness. “Yeah. They all do.” Saw had always thought he was doing the right thing, no matter who got hurt in the process.

“It helped me, in a strange way. It made me look at - who I was, and who I wanted to be. I’m not angry, any more.” Ahsoka lifted one hand, as though to touch the bruise on Jyn’s face, then dropped her fingers to the kyber crystal that lay against her skin. A strange, pained expression came into her eyes. “This is lovely.”

“Thanks.” Jyn had once almost broken a woman’s wrist when she’d reached for her necklace, just to get a closer look. Somehow Ahsoka’s careful touch didn’t inspire the same instinct. It was as though she understood how precious it was. 

“Do you know what it is?”

“Kyber. Some people think it’s… mystical.” _May the Force be with you_ , her mother whispered. “My mother gave it to me.”

That was too much. She shouldn’t have said that. Ahsoka lifted her eyes to Jyn’s. “They’re very rare,” she said. “And more powerful than people know. Even very small ones like this.” Her fingers moved from the crystal to Jyn’s skin, gently tracing the sharp ridge of her collarbone. Jyn’s mouth suddenly felt very dry.

She’d been alone for months. Three times, now, Ahsoka had found her when she needed help. That was a better fucking track record than anyone, in as long as Jyn could remember. She looked at her, her warm smile and her summer-blue eyes, and lifted a hand to her smooth cheek. Ahsoka’s fingers moved from her collarbone, up her throat, to the point of her jaw.

“Kestrel,” she murmured.

“Shut up,” said Jyn, and kissed her.

Ahsoka kissed with the same steady confidence with which she seemed to do everything else. Her mouth parted softly, and when her tongue slid against Jyn’s she tasted of rich, smokey whiskey. Her hand slid up into Jyn’s hair, tugging the hair tie away. Jyn, remembering a rather memorable night with a Twi’lek girl, trailed her fingers lightly against Ahsoka’s lekku, pleased when she felt her gasp.

They broke apart, both of them breathless, Ahsoka cradling the back of Jyn’s skull. 

“Just so you know: this wasn’t what I planned, when I brought you back here,” Ahsoka said in a rather wry tone.

Jyn gave her a smirk. “No, you just wanted to play the hero,” she said. “Well, fine. You’ve done that. Do you want to stop?”

Ahsoka’s eyes flicked down to Jyn’s mouth, and she licked her lips. The sight made warmth bloom in Jyn’s stomach. “I don’t.”

“Good.” Jyn ran a hand down Ahsoka’s side, over the thick fabric of her clothing. “How does this come off?”

That made Ahsoka smile. She stood in one graceful motion and unclipped the belt at her narrow waist, letting it fall to the ground with a thump. She began to undo the tiny clasps at the front of the long, grey garment, her eyes on Jyn. Feeling a little flushed, Jyn stood to help her. Slowly, she slid each clasp loose, letting the thick material of Ahsoka’s - dress? Tunic? Jyn didn’t know - slide open, baring more of that rich bronze skin. Ahsoka trailed her hand through Jyn’s hair and down her neck. Her breath was warm at Jyn’s temple.

“If I’d known this would happen, I’d have worn something easier to remove,” she said.

Jyn huffed, smiling. “That would’ve been appreciated. I’m almost there.” The garment was mostly open now, leaving shadows that hinted at the curve of waist and breasts. Jyn let her fingers slip inside briefly, following the curve of Ahsoka’s ribs, brushing the soft underside of her breast. As she did so, Ahsoka’s hand moved lower, finding the clasp of Jyn’s bra and tugging it open.

Impatient, now, Jyn pulled her arms back enough to let her bra fall to the floor and then returned, finally loosing the last of Ahsoka’s clasps and pushing the garment from her shoulders. Ahsoka was smiling, and Jyn chased that smile with her own mouth, leaning up to kiss her, pressing the lengths of their bodies together. This kiss was hungrier, and when Jyn caught her teeth at Ahsoka’s lower lip Ahsoka’s hands tightened on her hips, pulling her harder against her. Jyn’s palm was pressed to Ahsoka’s ribs, and it was nothing at all to slide it higher, to cradle her breast firmly, thumb stroking over her nipple.

“I’d like,” Ahsoka gasped, when they parted for air, “to get the rest of your clothes off.”

“Perfect. I’d like to do the same.”

It only took Jyn moments to yank off her boots and belt, and to shimmy out of her trousers. The bacta was doing a brilliant job, the pain in her shoulder little more than a faint throb, almost completely eclipsed by the burn of arousal in her belly. To have begun the day a prisoner of the Empire, it was a remarkable turn of fortune to end it this way. She was unlikely to have another good thing for a long time. 

Ahsoka stripped easily, and moved to light the small lamp beside the narrow bed. Jyn’s eyes followed her, taking in the dark dip of her spine, the graceful swing of her lekku, the long stretch of her legs. Her lithe curves were painted gold in the lamplight.

“You’re a far better sight than an Empire prison ship,” said Jyn, clambering onto the bed. Ahsoka smiled at that, her blue eyes glinting.

“Am I? What a compliment.” She came to kneel on the mattress and reached for Jyn, stroking her palm down from shoulder to hip. There was a faint callous at the base of her thumb, as though from a weapon. Jyn reached for her and pulled her down beside her, sliding her own hands more confidently over the softness of Ahsoka’s lekku as they fell to kissing again. 

“Tell me,” Ahsoka said, as Jyn kissed her throat, “where are you going, after this?”

Jyn ignored her in favour of biting at the curve of her shoulder, sliding her leg over Ahsoka’s thigh and pushing her over onto her back.

“That’s not important,” Jyn said, settling between her legs, propped up on her elbows. Ahsoka pushed Jyn’s hair from her face, an achingly tender gesture that made Jyn’s heart seize. Impatient, she leaned down and captured her in another kiss, demanding and insistent. She cupped Ahsoka’s breast firmly, squeezing, enjoying the groan that drew from her throat.

“And where are _you_ going?” Jyn demanded when she pulled back. She slid her hand from Ahsoka’s breast down her stomach, muscles quivering beneath her palm. “How did you know where I was? How is it that you’ve found me three times?”

“I—” Ahsoka searched her face, clearly not concerned by Jyn’s tone. When Jyn’s hand slid lower, sliding against the slick heat between her legs, she bit her lip. “I think I _know_ you,” she said.

Jyn laughed, curling her fingers. “No you don’t.”

“I know.” Ahsoka tangled her fingers in Jyn’s hair and angled her hips up against her hand. “But I do, somehow.” 

“There’s lots of people like me.” Jyn rubbed her thumb in firm circles, making Ahsoka curse and bite her lovely full lower lip. “You’ve got me mixed up.”

“I - ah - I doubt it.” Ahsoka dragged her down for a kiss, hitching one long leg up against Jyn’s hip. Her other hand dragged down Jyn’s back, nails scratching at her spine. “Where I was before—”

“Where?” Jyn continued to move her fingers, exploring each fold, the delicious wet heat of her, ignoring the thrumming ache between her own legs. She knew she’d never met this woman before that day after Tamsye Prime, but _something_ had drawn Ahsoka to her. And, perhaps, had drawn Jyn to Ahsoka.

“I - it’s not a place. Not really, it’s— _ah_ \- it’s a world between all other worlds. Where the - the Force—”

 _May the Force be with you._ Jyn pressed into her and set her teeth to Ahsoka’s throat, relishing her moan. “The Force?”

“Where the Force connects everything. I can’t explain it. But I heard you.” Breathless, Ahsoka dragged Jyn up to face her. Her eyes were bright, her lip showing the indent from her teeth. _“The time to fight is now.”_

“This is fighting?” Jyn asked, rubbing firmly over Ahsoka’s clit and eliciting a soft cry. 

“No.” Ahsoka shook her head. “Definitely not.”

“Good. I’ve had enough of fighting for one bloody day.” 

It didn’t take long, then. Jyn kissed Ahsoka’s mouth, her face, her lekku, her breasts, ignoring the cramp in her wrist as she stroked her. When Ahsoka came she was quiet, shuddering against her hand, her fingernails digging sharp into Jyn’s arms.

“Here,” she urged, as Jyn slipped her fingers free. “Come here.” She closed her hands around Jyn’s waist, urging her to move up the bed, to kneel over her. Jyn went willingly, holding firm to the headboard with one hand and curling the other around the gentle curve of Ahsoka’s montral. When she looked down, she saw a tiny frown on Ahsoka’s face, her eyes intent. Her slim hands curled around Jyn’s thighs, holding her steady.

Ahsoka’s tongue was hot, wet, perfect. Jyn had to bite down on a groan at the first gentle press, gripping tight to the headboard. She saw a flash of amusement in Ahsoka’s eyes.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she panted.

“I’m not,” said Ahsoka, a teasing note in her voice, her breath warm on Jyn’s thighs. She pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the soft skin there, then between her legs, before flicking her tongue out to make Jyn swear and groan. Ahsoka seemed to grow more confident at this, and soon it was taking all of Jyn’s self-control not to press down against her mouth, not to seize hold of her montral and hold her in place. She came like a sunburst, a sudden flood of sensation, her entire body tensing and shaking.

There was a distinctly smug look on Ahsoka’s face when Jyn slumped down beside her, her heart hammering at her ribs. Jyn rolled her eyes, but leaned over to kiss her, tasting herself on her warm, wet lips. They lay side by side, breathing steadying slowly, the sweat cooling on their bodies. Jyn traced the stripes of Ahsoka’s lekku. Ahsoka stroked the curve of Jyn’s breast, then touched the kyber crystal.

“It calls to me,” she said.

“Huh?” Jyn blinked her way out of her soft lassitude. 

“The kyber. I sensed it, when we first met. Like a song, at the edge of hearing.”

Jyn frowned. “What, are you a - a Jedi, or something?”

All the Jedi were dead. If there had been any real Jedi to start with. 

“No.” Ahsoka shook her head lightly, and met Jyn’s eyes. “No, nothing like that. But they’re alive, Kestrel. Kyber crystals. And yours called me. I heard it again, on that train. Calling me to you.”

Jyn swallowed down the sudden, painful lump in her throat. Her mother would believe Ahsoka, she knew. It would be so easy, to trust her just that bit more. Tell her about her mother, about her studies and beliefs and passions, how she trusted the Force. 

“It’s just a necklace,” she said instead. “It can’t do anything like that. You just have good timing.”

There was something sad in Ahsoka’s smile when she leaned in and kissed Jyn once again. “Perhaps,” she said, and Jyn knew she didn’t believe it.

* * *

Jyn was an expert at slipping away into the night, but somehow she wasn’t surprised when Ahsoka woke up.

“Don’t ask me to stay,” she said, pulling her boots on. 

“I wasn’t going to.” Ahsoka got out of bed and crossed the room towards her. Moonlight cast a bar of pale light across the room. “I thought you’d leave.”

Jyn ignored the pang in her chest. “I have to go.”

“Of course. Here, take this.” Ahsoka knelt and rummaged in her satchel by the bed, then straightened to press the tube of bacta spray into her hands. “I think you need this more than me.”

“I... “ Jyn swallowed, and stowed the tube in her pocket. “Thank you. For - everything.”

Ahsoka shook her head. She stepped closer, pushing a strand of hair from Jyn’s face. “May the Force of others be with you, Kestrel.”

Something felt very tight in Jyn’s chest all of a sudden. She leaned up and pressed a kiss to the corner of Ahsoka’s mouth. “My name is Jyn,” she said.

She pulled her hood up over her head and left the room, without looking back.

* * *

“If the Empire has this kind of power, what choice do we have?”

Fury and grief and wild hope tangled in Jyn’s chest. She raged at the Alliance leaders, at their hopeless cowardice. She thought of her father, bleeding out in her arms. Of Saw, standing amid the ruins of Jedha. Beside her, Bodhi Rook was wide-eyed. Her kyber crystal was warm and alive at her throat.

“The time to fight is now!” she cried, and Ahsoka’s voice seemed to echo in her mind.

* * *

They shouldn’t have survived Scarif. Somehow, though, they did. 

No one should have been able to destroy the Death Star. Somehow, though, Luke Skywalker did. 

Jyn had escaped the medbay for a while. She stood looking out at the magnificent jungle of Yavin 4, leaning on a wall of sun-warmed old stone. The usual noise and chaos of the rebellion filtered up from below, but she ignored it. She couldn’t avoid detection for long, and then she’d be firmly escorted back to the medbay. 

Above the trees, a bird was flying. It was a convor, she realised. Jyn shaded her eyes and watched it glide in steady loops, her other hand pressed to her kyber crystal.

Soft footsteps made her turn around, and her heart caught in her throat. It wasn’t Cassian, this time, or Baze. 

“We meet again, Jyn Erso,” said Ahsoka. The sunset made her glow, as though she were lit from the inside. Her eyes were still as blue as purest kyber.

“So we do.” Jyn found herself smiling. “Join me?”

Ahsoka came and stood beside her, their arms pressed together where they leaned on the wall. Slowly, the sun dipped below the trees, painting the rebellion base in rose and gold.

“The Force was with you,” said Ahsoka, turning to look at her.

Jyn met her gaze. “The Force of others,” she corrected.

Ahsoka nodded, a warm smile spreading across her face. “The Force of others,” she agreed.


End file.
